Firmin halted abruptly. ‘But, sir!’ he cried.
The king stopped six yards ahead of him and looked back at his adviser’s perspiring visage.
‘Do you really think, Firmin, that I am here as—as an infernal politician to put my crown and my flag and my claims and so forth in the way of peace? That little Frenchman is right. You know he is right as well as I do. Those things are over. We—we kings and rulers and representatives have been at the very heart of the mischief. Of course we imply separation, and of course separation means the threat of war, and of course the threat of war means the accumulation of more and more atomic bombs. The old game’s up. But, I say, we mustn’t stand here, you know. The world waits. Don’t you think the old game’s up, Firmin?’
Firmin adjusted a strap, passed a hand over his wet forehead, and followed earnestly. ‘I admit, sir,’ he said to a receding back, ‘that there has to be some sort of hegemony, some sort of Amphictyonic council——’
‘There’s got to be one simple government for all the world,’ said the king over his shoulder.
‘But as for a reckless, unqualified abandonment, sir——’
‘Bang!’ cried the king.
Firmin made no answer to this interruption. But a faint shadow of annoyance passed across his heated features.
‘Yesterday,’ said the king, by way of explanation, ‘the Japanese very nearly got San Francisco.’
‘I hadn’t heard, sir.’